They’d both found their place.
Behind them, the sun rose up, shedding light on what promised to be a pretty damn perfect summer day.
“Lots of kids later, Zod, and dogs, too. We’re going to have one terrific Fourth of—”
She slammed on the brakes. As Zod yipped in surprise, she swung to the side of the road. She’d seen the woman, bruises covering her face, rush into the trees in a limping run as the truck approached.
“Wait,” Darby said as much to Zod as the woman, and jumped out of the truck. “I won’t hurt you! You need help. I could see you’re hurt.” Pushing back her instinct to rush forward, Darby stood beside the truck.
She’d only gotten a glimpse, but she’d seen fear in the blackened, swollen eyes.
“Let me help you. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’m Darby. Someone hurt me once, and I needed help. Let me help you.”
She heard the rustle, made herself stand still. “Or I’ll call someone for you. I’ll call whoever you want, and stay here until they come.”
She caught another glimpse—thin, bruised face, long dishwater blond hair. “I can’t go the way you’re going. They might see me.”
“We’ll turn around and go the other way. Anywhere you want. Look, how about if I turn the truck around now? I’ll turn it around so we’re going in the right direction. You’re hurt. I can’t leave you here alone. I’ll just turn the truck around, okay?”
With her heart hammering, she got back in the truck.
Don’t run, she thought, please don’t run, as she made a slow, careful U-turn.
“I don’t know you.”
“I’m Darby. Darby McCray. I moved to Lakeview last February. I can call someone and wait right here if you don’t want me to drive you somewhere.”
She came out cautiously, with those battered eyes tracking from Darby to the dog.
“His name’s Zod. He’s awfully sweet. He won’t hurt you.”
To make sure he didn’t bark, Darby stroked him while the woman’s eyes darted back up the road. With that limping run, she dashed to the truck, pulled herself inside.
“Can you drive away from here?” The words poured out in a shaking rush. “Just drive away?”
“Sure.” Nice and easy, Darby thought. Keep it nice, easy, calm. “I can take you to the clinic,” Darby began as she drove. “Or the police, or—”
“No, no, no.”
“Okay, don’t worry. We won’t go anywhere you don’t want. Do you have family?”
“I can’t go there. They’d find me there.”
“All right.” As Darby spoke, her voice soft, Zod licked at one of the woman’s shaking hands, then laid his head in her lap.
She began to weep.
“You can go home with me, or…”
With that shaking hand, the woman reached in her pocket, drew out a creased business card. “Can you take me there? To him?”
When she scanned the card, Darby let out a breath. “Are you Traci, Traci Draper? Don’t be afraid,” she said quickly when the woman grabbed the truck handle as if she’d fling open the door and jump. “I know Zane. He’s a friend. He told me he was worried about you, and why. I can take you to him. He’s—we’re…” How to say it? “We’re together. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
Traci gathered up Zod, rocked, and clung to the dog. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re doing it. You’re getting help.”
“If they find me … Why are you turning here!” Panic pitched her voice high. “This isn’t right.”
“It’s where Zane lives. He’s not at the office in town now. It’s too early, and it’s a holiday so he’s still home. I just came from here. He’s at home. It’s all right. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Reassure, connect, and take it slow, Darby told herself.
“I met your mom, and your sister. They’re awfully nice.”
“He said he’d kill them, kill them and me if I tried to go to them. He’ll kill them.”
“We won’t let that happen, Traci. We’ll stop him. We’re going to stop him. See, that’s Zane’s car. We’re going to go inside, and you can tell him what happened.”
Clutching the dog tighter, Traci twisted to look behind the truck. “Clint will try to kill him if he finds out I came here.”
“Don’t worry. Nobody knows you’re here. We’re going inside,” she said after she parked. “And we’re going to figure out the best thing to do.”
She got out, hurried around to help Traci out of the truck. “Zane may not be up yet, but I have a key. I stay here sometimes.”
With Zod leading the way in his happy prance, she guided Traci to the front door, unlocked it, dealt with the alarm.
“That was quick.” Wearing only cotton pants and carrying a mug of coffee, Zane wandered out of the kitchen. “Christ, Traci.” He rushed forward, slowing when Traci cringed back against Darby’s supporting arm.
He gentled his voice. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you back, get you some water. Maybe some coffee.”
He walked ahead of them. He’d not only survived physical abuse, but had prosecuted abusers, interviewed their victims. She might not want a man to touch her or come too close.
Relieved that Darby seemed to understand, he split off to get the water, to grab a T-shirt out of the mudroom while she guided Traci to the great room sofa.
Zod, eyes full of love, laid his head on the sofa next to Traci’s leg.
“He—he’s a nice dog.”
“He really is. Do you want some coffee?”
“Just the water please. Thank you. I don’t know what to do.”
“We’re going to figure that out,” Zane told her as he brought the water, offered it. Then offered an ice bag. “Where else are you hurt, Traci?”
“He hit me in the stomach a lot, and when I fell, I banged up my knee. It hurts, and my arm where he grabbed me. He got mad last night. He was drinking and he got really mad. He didn’t like what I made for dinner, and his mama said I only worked in the garden for an hour. They watch me.”
Even though she gripped the glass with both hands, it trembled as she brought it up, took slow sips.
“He said I was lazy and no good, and he started beating on me. And I thought this time he might just kill me. And he made me have sex with him and it hurt, everything hurt, and he hit me again because he said the sex was bad and how I was just a whore anyway.”
When fresh tears began to spill, Darby put an arm around her.
“I thought if I don’t just die I gotta get out.”
“Is he home now?”
Traci lifted her blackened eyes to Zane, shook her head.
“I couldn’t’ve gotten out if he’d been home. He left real early to go hunting with his brother and his daddy. If I’m not out in the garden working in an hour or so, or hanging out the wash, his mama or his sister-in-law will come over looking for me. They watch me from their houses, and they tell him if I don’t do what he says, or if I talk to anybody.